


Amor Vincit

by QuillerQueen



Series: Bread and Games [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillerQueen/pseuds/QuillerQueen
Summary: Prompt 28: Regina self harming and Robin noticing. Set in the Bread and Games verse, sometime in the future.





	Amor Vincit

He's kissing down her gloriously naked body, slow and unhurried, savouring every inch of her as they lie tangled and sated on the thin pallet, when her limbs go from liquid to tense. The giggle drawn by the swirl of his tongue in the hollow of her navel fades, and Robin frowns.

It's happened before. Their first time together, when his fingers traced her thighs, stroking and squeezing gently; and then especially the first time he ventured to taste her, sucking and licking his way to where she was warm and slick. It's happened before, but not in a while.

So Robin finds himself hovering over the apex of her thighs, unwilling to continue if she's even the slightest bit uncomfortable, and shifting to search her face. That's not what she wants, it seems, for her fingers are tangling in his hair and keeping him in place even as her thighs squeeze in encouragement.

Taking her cue, he settles between her thighs, fingers tracing soothing patterns into her side as he sets to feathering kisses over the marks she's so self-conscious about. They’re tiny, barely discernible in the gloomy room, easier felt than seen. She'd been so wary back then, anxious and ashamed even when she first bared them to him. And so Robin had covered them in kisses, every single one of them, until he lost count.

No amount of scars could ever detract from her beauty.

Perhaps he hasn't been clear enough about that lately, Robin wonders as he continues to lavish attention on warm skin, her thighs trembling in response.

And then he finds it.

Longer, angrier, and unquestionably newer than the rest.

He freezes, fingers clenching at her hip. He’s always attributed the little marks to remnants from when Regina carried Henry under her heart--until now. This time Regina doesn't try to stop him from rushing back up to her side, but still can't seem to look him in the eye.

“Regina--who’s been hurting you?”

Whoever it is, Robin's going to rip them apart limb after bloody limb.

“No one,” she whispers. “No one did this to me.”

Robin goes to protest, to cajole the name of her torturer from her, but her tearful tone suddenly makes a realisation dawn, and his anger gives way to pain.

“I-It’s stupid, I know,” Regina sniffs, shaking her head, staring at the sooty ceiling. “Weak. Pathetic. I hadn’t done it in years, but last night--Mother was just horrible. Midas got handsy at dinner--all the wine--and Leopold, well, he doesn't like his property touched, so he--had, well, urges. I'm sorry, Robin. I'm so sorry.”

Her voice snaps like a dry twig, and she's crying now, choking out sob after heaving sob as he gathers her into his arms, cradling her head while she buries her face in the crook of his neck, and whispering words of comfort that feel wholly inadequate.

He's not sure about the source of her guilt--the self-inflicted injury or the fact that her bastard of a husband claims her body despite her will and legally so, chipping away at her very soul. Either way, Regina is blameless, and Robin won't let her sink into the quicksand of self-hatred.

“Regina, my love, you've nothing-- _nothing_ \--to apologise for.”

She coughs and sputters at that, curling up tighter against him.

“It was just too much,”she confesses into his chest, “and Henry needed me, I had to find some way to--I needed some sort of relief, and quick. So I could be there for my son. I know it was wrong. I know it can’t happen again.”

Robin nods, trying to wrap his head around it all as he strokes up and down Regina's spine.

“What can I do?” he asks.

The sound that comes from her is half-sob, half-laugh, equal parts incredulous and relieved.

“Love me just the same?” she says, and by the gods, if that isn’t the easiest thing anyone’s ever asked of him. “Even though they're not a reminder of the miracle of life but instead of my failures.”

“Regina--there is not one part of you I do not love. Not a single one. We don’t have to talk about this now if you'd rather not, but I want you to know I’m here when you do.”

She’s strong, and resilient, and beautiful even when she thinks she’s not--and the ghost of her _thank you_ , soft yet charged, is seared into his skin and imprinted on his very soul.


End file.
